


Testing a Theory (Peking Duck x Reader)

by foodfantasies (hereisnowhy)



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female Master Attendant (Food Fantasy), Gender-Neutral Master Attendant (Food Fantasy), M/M, Male Master Attendant (Food Fantasy), Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21725791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereisnowhy/pseuds/foodfantasies
Summary: You, the Reader, have been helping Peking Duck with a research project.You just didn’t know it was you he’d been studying the whole time.No gendered pronouns used when referring to the Reader, friendly for all gender identities. No explicit or strictly NSFW content, but gets progressively more suggestive towards the end. ;)Content advisory for pain/BDSM kink and relatively tame implied bondage play.
Relationships: Master Attendant/Peking Duck (Food Fantasy), Reader/Peking Duck (Food Fantasy)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Testing a Theory (Peking Duck x Reader)

For some reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on, you had always been a little afraid of Peking Duck.

The odd incident yesterday had done nothing to assuage your anxiety. You had been sitting with him in his study, side-by-side, and has been particularly engrossed by what he was saying. Well, it started out that way, anyways. You were paying attention at first, honest!

You remember you were leaning towards him, listening intently, when you suddenly found yourself breaking eye contact to admire his features. The first thing anyone would notice were those eyes, piercing and golden, fringed with chestnut-brown lashes. Next would be those high cheekbones. Or maybe his nose, straight and proud — and perched over lips that were smooth, plump, crowned by a perfectly sculpted Cupid’s bow... _God, he was beautiful, wasn’t he?_

You’d always been fascinated by him, at once both intimidated by and attracted to his ethereal appearance. You’d been caught staring at him on more than one occasion, and you noticed that you found yourself with a fluttery feeling in your stomach whenever he was near. He had always been an extremely polite and respectful Food Soul, if somewhat reserved. You longed to get to know him better. When he asked for your assistance with a research project he was working on, you leapt at the chance.

He was always cordial, patient and kind. You liked him, trusted him. But there still was something about him… something that gave you a thrill whenever those pale golden eyes met yours. Something that made you wonder - in brief, blood-freezing moments of panic and desire - whether he was going to gently embrace you or push you up against a wall and...

You snapped back to attention as you felt a grip on your arm. His face was inches from yours, but his eyes were closed.   
“What are you thinking about, Attendant?” he asked playfully, with that signature smile of his. The mellow bass of his voice in such close proximity to you made your heart rate jump yet again.

Even as he smiled you felt his grip tighten, harder, harder, until it actually hurt - you winced, and as soon as you opened your mouth to yelp he was leaning back over the book on the desk, one slim finger tracing a paragraph. He chuckled under his breath, and muttered something you couldn’t quite hear. It was as if the oddly aggressive gesture had never happened - you spent a few bewildered moments doubting if it even had. But then why was your heart pounding so hard? Why had something stirred within you that left you feeling lightheaded and… wanting?

You heard a door open behind you, and the pattering of a dozen tiny webbed feet across the hardwood floor.   
“Ah, Yuxiang, you’re back with the little ones,” Peking said jovially, pushing back his chair and standing up. “Wonderful. Attendant, thank you for assisting me with my studies,” he added to you, “I seem to learn so many interesting things when you’re around.”

Dismissed. As you thanked him and exited the study, you had the strange realization that he had never once, in all your time knowing him, smiled at you with his eyes open. You walked back to your room while absentmindedly rubbing your arm, as if to call back the feeling of his touch.

* * *

And here you were the next evening, timidly knocking on his door at his behest. He had met you in a hallway earlier that day and requested you visit him that night. Other than that, hadn’t seen him since the incident in the study. As you knocked, you swallowed hard, trying to suppress the lump in your throat.  
“Come in,” a voice called faintly from within.

You stepped inside a dimly lit room. You had expected to immediately be swarmed by peeping ducklings, but to your surprise, none appeared. _Must be with Yuxiang again_ , you thought, a little curious as to why.  
Swathes of silk and chiffon hung from the rafters, draped between the beams like the sails of a galleon. Bookshelves towered towards the ceiling, every shelf laden with tomes, many of them in languages you couldn’t read - and some you couldn’t even recognize. Lanterns placed here and there, as well as a few suspended from the ceiling, cast more shadows than light. A sweet-smelling haze in the air gave the room a balmy and dreamlike quality.   
Through the fog, you could just make out a figure reclining on a pile of lofty cushions towards the back of the room. You heard a gentle exhale, and watched as a fresh plume of pearly smoke bloomed and swirled in the air.

  
“Ah! It’s you, Master Attendant,” he said warmly, as if pleasantly surprised.   
“Did you think I wasn’t coming?” you asked, trying to peer through the smoke.   
“No,” he answered simply. “I knew you’d come.”   
You paused, unsure of what to say.  
“Do come closer, please,” he said. “I’d like to discuss with you the results of our research.”   
“Results?” you asked, your disappointment obvious in your voice. “I wasn’t aware we were finished.” _There goes my opportunity to get to know him better_ , you thought bitterly. 

From your present distance, you could tell he was wearing something different than his usual attire. As you drew nearer, you saw it was a close-fitting robe of golden silk, high-collared and sleek. He lay on his side, resting his head on one hand, while the other held a long, thin pipe. Your heart jumped into your throat when you noticed his hair was loose, impossibly long tresses spilling over his shoulders and pooling on the cushioned mat beneath him. You suddenly felt embarrassed; ashamed, even, of your own plainness. This was not a human before you, maybe not even just a Food Soul - this had to be a divine being. 

“Closer, now; and kneel, please,” he said somewhat impatiently, though his voice was gentle. “Let me see you.”   
This was different. _He_ was different. Though he spoke with the warmth of a friend, his words were more like commands.   
Your heart hammering, you obeyed. You were kneeling before him as he lounged - he hadn’t bothered sitting up. The rich scent of the smoke filled your head.  
His gaze was fixed on you; the stare of a lazy, expectant cat. Hypnotized by those yellow eyes, you waited for him to speak.

Holding his pipe by the bowl, he turned the stem towards you and placed it gently under your chin. He lifted the stem slightly, tilting your chin up with it.  
“Attendant,” he crooned softly, “You’re quite naughty, aren’t you?”

Your thoughts raced and your head swam, tension knotting in your stomach. Your eyelids fluttered as you, panic-stricken and confused, failed to find anything at all to say in reply.

Peking chuckled, setting the pipe aside.  
“Your arm - is it alright?” he asked you, leaning closer still. He reached for it, and you numbly offered it to his touch.   
“It’s fine,” you managed to say, quietly.   
“That shy face of yours… I love it,” he said, stroking your arm gently. “I realized, yesterday, in the study. The way you were looking at me…. Attendant, come a little closer.” You did.  
“It hurt, didn’t it?” he asked. “How firmly I grasped you - you felt pain, didn’t you? I watched your expression.” There was concern in his voice, and you believed it was sincere. Was this what you were here for? Was this a ridiculously over-the-top apology for something so minor?  
“N-no, Peking, it’s really okay,” you stammered in reply. “It hurt a bit, but it wasn’t…” 

“A contract binds a Soul to their Attendant - and prevents that Soul from ever harming them,” he explained as you trailed off. “It should not be possible for me to purposefully cause you any degree of physical pain. And yet, yesterday, I did. Effortlessly, and with full intention. The contract is an unbreakable bond. I should have felt it screaming against me the tighter I gripped you.” 

Your stomach dropped and your embarrassment soared to new heights.

“But I didn’t feel that, Attendant. I felt no resistance… no unconquerable force stayed my hand. In fact,” he added as he narrowed his eyes slightly, “It felt… _good_.”   
He smiled at you, and in that moment you understood. You knew why he’d never before looked at you as he smiled. Those golden eyes, trained on you, held within them such a fierce and possessive desire it made your head spin.

“And that’s when I realized it,” he continued. “That it could only mean one thing. That though it was a painful feeling… you wanted it. It made you feel good, too. And thus fulfilled us both.” He reached out to gently caress your cheek. “You want me to make you feel that way, Attendant. I want to make you feel that way, too. I want to feel that way with you.” 

“I…” you began, though you had no idea what you wanted to say. Words wouldn’t come. He raised his eyebrows and laughed softly.  
“You need not speak your answer,” he said, “If you would lay here with me.” 

He shifted his position as you gingerly climbed up beside him. He took your head in his hands, pressed his forehead to yours. “I’ll take care of you,” he said, his voice like velvet, “You can be your true self around me. You don't need to conceal yourself, you don't need to be afraid.”  
He reached behind you and pulled shut a hidden screen you hadn’t noticed before - panels of lacquered wood, intricately latticed, closed out the dim lantern light. You were alone together in the warm darkness. He drew you into an embrace. You felt satin on your cheek - you smelled sandalwood, pepper, clove. Then the sensation of cool silk encircling your wrists, pulling your arms close behind you.   
  
“Yes,” you whispered, exhaling shakily. “ _Yes_.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy where this is headed, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’d be happy to continue this into a Part 2. ;)


End file.
